


What's Your Name?

by OnaDacora



Series: Blackwall and Nohvara Lavellan Drabbles [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:52:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4800191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnaDacora/pseuds/OnaDacora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Blackwall's personal quest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Your Name?

“ _Let’s start over.”_  


“So who is this in my stables, did Master Dennet find a new stablehand?”  


Blackwall just stared, unsure of what to say. The Inquisitor had come up behind him as he was at his workbench, keeping himself busy to distract from the angry looks that everyone had been casting his way. Dorian had come by not long ago, to make sure he understood that as far as the mage was concerned, he didn’t deserve the Inquisitor. When Blackwall solemnly agreed, Dorian just scowled and stormed off. He suspected that wasn’t the end of it, and he deserved no less.

“Well?” Nohvara Lavellan pressed, her arms crossed over her chest, looking him over from head to foot. “A bit  _old_  to be a stablehand I admit, but I suppose we can’t go turning help away.”  


_What is she… Oh, I see._  “My apologies, milady. Not a stablehand, no. Just a soldier.”

She raised an eyebrow, and he thought he caught the faintest hint of a smile. This was what she wanted, then. “Oh? And who have you served?”

He swallowed.  _No more lies. Not ever. Not to her._  “Myself, mostly, and whoever had the coin to pay me. But I served Orlais for a time, as a Captain.”

The Inquisitor nodded, but didn’t press for more details. He wondered if he should say more, if she wanted him to admit to his crimes again, but before he could work up the nerve she uncrossed her arms and rested her hands on her hips.

“And what should I call you? What’s your name?”  


To him they seemed two very different questions with two very different answers. They had just talked about this yesterday, did she want the same response?

“I prefer to go by Blackwall,” he said, carefully watching her face.  _Say the rest, introduce yourself properly this time._  “But my name is Thom Rainier.”  


He hoped he had answered correctly.  _Maker, I don’t deserve her forgiveness, and I damn well don’t deserve_ her _, but I want her back. With this new life that she’s given me, I’ll do anything if only for her to love me._

She was peering into his eyes unflinchingly, and he had to fight the urge to look away. After a moment, tenderness softened her face and she took a step closer to him. “If I may be so bold,” she said quietly, so quietly he found himself inching closer to hear her better. He was so transfixed on her bright green eyes that he didn’t realize how close they had become until her hand came to rest on the side of his face. “I think that  _Blackwall_  suits you better.”

She hesitated, reaching up with her other hand to curl around the back of his neck. He didn’t touch her,  _Maker_  he wanted to, but he didn’t. His arms remained at his sides while he waited. His heart was pounding, and in a way this moment felt more significant than when she was passing judgement on him from her throne, his wrists bound with shackles.

Her teeth grazed her bottom lip, her brow furrowing as she searched his eyes. “ _Ma vhenan_ ,” she finally breathed.  _My heart._

Blackwall let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, only to have it stolen away as the Inquisitor wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him down into a desperate kiss. He hugged her to him, thanking the Maker –and  _her_ – for still giving him this second chance.

Breaking their kiss with a shuddering breath, she said, “Blackwall…”

“Milady Inquisitor, I had no idea you were this  _forward,”_  he murmured, teasing her gently. “We’ve only just met.”  


“ _Shut up_ ,” she answered, but her voice was soft. “It was a stupid idea. I can’t just pretend I don’t already love you.”  


“You put forth a valiant effort,” he said, half-joking half-serious. “You  _did_  have me worried for a moment.”  


“I know, that’s what broke my resolve.”  


“I deserve worse.”  


“Hush. I’ll decide what you deserve.”


End file.
